


The Hook Up

by Jamaican Princess (Rocquellan)



Series: LJ challenge prompt: Career Fest [1]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 18:33:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocquellan/pseuds/Jamaican%20Princess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First of a three part post for a challenge on LJ. Prompt:</p><p>Pairing/Character(s): Asami/Takaba<br/>Scenario: Asami - College professor taking a motorcycle tour of Japan before the next semester starts; Takaba - local grease monkey that has to fix the cycle.<br/>Additions: Summertime, Asami possibly part of a motorcycle club.<br/>Squicks: mpreg, femAki (this isn't yaoi), noncon, extreme humiliation<br/>Maximum Rating: up to R</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hook Up

Asami had the idea in his head for this little trip on and off for years. 

Countless years spent in Shinjuku teaching college kids Advanced Economics day in and day out had become so mundane that the itch under his skin to just get out and feel alive was like a physical ache. 

Asami possessed one of the rare Harley Davidson cafe racers, the FDXL model built by Selected Custom Motorcycles (SCM), straight from Yokohama, and during this summer break he took off the tarp and rode into the horizon on a whim before he found all sorts of reasons to change his own mind. 

_Thesis analysis, curriculum activities, academia meetings, tutoring, fangirls with too much time now to stand outside his doors with letters..._ Not all in a day, but good enough to change one’s mind from thinking they have a life outside of work.

He wore his biker boots, sunglasses and a black leather jacket over jeans and a t-shirt, just like he was 18 again growing up in parts of Tokyo. But now he’s 35 and he doesn’t feel a day over the first time he ever got on a motorbike and took off down the street, feeling the power of the engines and hearing the rumble of the muffler and falling in love with ‘Eleanor’ as the wind in his face felt like flying high on the clouds.

Eleanor was beautiful. Eleanor was his guilty pleasure and right now, Eleanor was the love of his life.

Regular maintenance had kept this beauty in tip-top shape and after a half hour of non-stop riding, he recognized the familiar main street of the Fuchu district as buildings and trees whizzed by.

An indiscernible amount of time later he found himself surrounded by even more trees and less structures, breathing in the fresh morning air as the sun drenched him in it’s warm rays with the backdrop of the serene mountainside. The asphalt and white lines became his own personal roadmap and the purr and treble emanating from under the leather seat made him feel half hard; the kind of sexual _vis viva_ that beset such feeling of mental emancipation. 

At around noon he made a pit stop at a small restaurant that saw women and young girls eyeing him like a juicy piece of steak. It boosted his self confidence like getting the acclaimed lecturer award for outstanding performance. But they were just a part of the passing scenery and he didn’t linger long enough for the ‘out-there’ feeling to seep from his bones. Then he moved forward again with no particular destination in mind except open road liberation.

Lots of people admired him from their cars and the sidewalk and he didn’t envy them. He knew what they were missing out on.

Hours later, when he’d reacquainted himself with enough time on the pin striped seat under his ass and the leather handlebars under his fingers making them feel numb, he felt it was time to head back home. Riding against the wind with his sunglasses on, he was born to be wild, even at 35 years old. But when he started running on one cylinder before the engine spluttered and the clutch gave out, he ended up stranded on the side of a deserted road in Suginami, an estimated forty five minutes ride from his residency.

“Shit,” Asami muttered when he cruised to the side of the road before running an appreciative, cursory glance over the bike, trying to figure out what could be the problem. Eleanor had never left him at the side of the road before, so this was a first. But then, he didn’t have the chance to take her for a spin as often as he liked.

First thing first, the gas tank wasn’t empty, basically half full, the tyres weren’t soft, but the plug wire had come loose at the coil. He reattached it, took off down the road and five minutes later the bike spluttered to a stop again.

He needed a mechanic. And he was still stranded on a side road.

A car was passing by, but unlike others it didn’t keep driving. The windows rolled down and a honey sweetened voice asked. “Hey, you ok? Need help?”

Asami took off his sunglasses and looked at the young woman poking her head out  
the driver’s side of a silver Prius.

“Yeah. Know any decent mechanic with a spark plug set around here?”

She grinned, cherry red lips pulled into a wide smile. “Sure, just around the corner there’s an auto shop. Ask for Takaba, he’ll help you out.”

The corner looked like a two minute walk away. “Fine, thanks.”

She waved before driving off and Asami took the bike off the stand, pushed it by the side of the road and decided to go and find this ‘Takaba’. He wanted to get home by nightfall.

..........

Asami pulled up to the yard of a home a little way past the first set of trees around the bend. It had some scraps of the rudimentary car shells and parts and old bikes littered about. There was even an old fridge and a toaster on an old wooden table. The sign out front read ‘Takaba’s auto shop’ and while the house itself wasn’t really big, it looked habitable enough. There wasn’t anybody in sight but a shed beside the house was open and a few vehicles in various stages of repair could be seen.

He blew his horn to announce his presence.

Nothing.

He blew again, longer and more grating this time. What if nobody was home? He didn’t want to leave his antique bike behind to be stolen or stripped while he tried to find an auto dealer so he could buy a spark plug set. And how long would that take with riding a bus?

No. He slapped the button again and didn’t let go and the horn blew through the atmosphere like a shrieking banshee.

“Hey, hey, HEY!”

The young man that suddenly emerged from the side startled Asami a little bit. He was half dressed in only a close fitting jeans and shoes while covered in grease. It was in his blond hair, on his face and hands. Must be one of those part-time college kids.

“Tone it down, what’s all the racket for?”

 _Young people,_ Asami thought. “I’m looking for Takaba, I need a little help out here.”

The kid’s grin widened. “You’re looking at him.”

Asami was a little surprised, he was expecting someone more worn and a little older at least. That’s the profile of most mechanics he knew. But who was he to judge? There might not be another mechanic around for miles.

“Fine. I got a spark plug wire loose at the coil. I tried putting it back on but five minutes later it died on me again.”

Takaba nodded. “Ok, get in and I’ll have a look.”

When Asami moved around the bike to push it through the now open gate, he heard the young man whistle.

“Wow, is that an ‘Eleanor’?”

Asami’s lips curled at the corner when he realized Takaba even knew the manufacturer's nickname for the make and model. He appreciated anybody who had a love for bikes as much as he did. “Yes it is.”

Takaba moved around him to eye the piece of machinery, adoration in his hazel gaze. “She’s beautiful.”

Asami would have gloated, except he found it a bit pretentious. But when Takaba reverently ran his hand over the smooth metal, down the soft leather and over the curved custom pipes, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a while slither up his spine and leak through his pores. He couldn’t explain it, but he liked it.

“Take her inside the shed and I’ll get it all fixed up for you,” Akihito instructed after stepping back. A good piece of antique machinery in excellent condition always turned him on. And if the customer was in the same condition like this man that went double. He hoped his customer didn’t notice he had a boner for him and his bike.

“So, how long will this take?” Asami asked after lowering the stand and leaving the bike to the -hopefully- expert.

“Not too long, about fifteen minutes, Mr...?” Akihito answered, rummaging around in a corner where he kept spare parts for what he might need while simultaneously asking for a name.

“Asami Ryuichi.”

“I’m Takaba Akihito.”

None of them really looked at each other after introducing themselves fully, because both of them had their reasons for wanting to keep their eyes off each other. Denial, denial, denial.

Asami looked around, taking in the Camaro with a door unhinged, the Sentra with a tyre missing, the scooter with the engine out and the bicycle with the chain hanging off the side. Not to mention all the tools and scrap parts on a table nearby.

“God, this makes me horny.”

It was said low and gravelly, like he wasn’t suppose to hear and Asami looked back at Takaba, who was sitting on a low stool and pulling apart the wire and coil from the bike, leaning over so the length of his back glistened with the promise of perspiration on creamy smooth skin laced with streaks of grease. He noticed how focused the kid was on his task, and how every now and again an intense heat flicked across those hazel eyes. In the setting sun when the rays were golden and soft, they cast a glow across Takaba like a nimbus of the highest order. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling like this about somebody he just met, who looked nearly half his age, but the attraction was there and he felt it under his skin. When that heated gaze flicked to him and Takaba realized that he’d seen, he ducked his head as a blush spread high on his cheeks. He was clearly flustered and Asami smiled before walking over to him.

“You look a bit young to be doing this by yourself, how old are you?”

Without looking up, heartbeat erratic, Akihito answered, “I just turned twenty and I’ve been doing this for five years, inherited it from my dad.”

Asami’s proximity was affecting him, he wondered if the man knew.

“Mmm,” Asami acknowledged. Deciding to act coy, he moved closer, bent down and breathed right into Takaba’s ear over his shoulder, “You’re really good with your hands.”

Akihito shivered, he almost dropped the wrench he was holding. For an older man Asami was HOT. This whole situation was sending him into a tailspin of desire. “I know.”

Asami smirked. “You really think this job will take fifteen minutes?”

Akihito swallowed thickly, cock straining in his jeans. “If you continue? No.”

Asami ran both fingers lightly over Akihito’s hips before one came to rest on the small of his back. Akihito’s musk combined with the smell of grease created a heady mixture of  
something that responded to Asami’s basic human instinct; to covet -taste and take. He had no qualms about taking this young man, not as long as he wanted him to, and so far, his roaming fingers on heated skin was met with no resistance.

Akihito’s breathing sped up, his heart palpitated and his jeans front became extremely uncomfortable when the man started running fingers over his sensitive skin. He whimpered when his head was turned so he could be pulled back into an intoxicating, intimate kiss. He scrambled until he turned himself around, pushing Asami back until they were both standing and he could get a grip on the lapel of that leather jacket so he could shrug it off the man’s broad shoulders. Asami had one hand on his ass and the other circling his lower back while his hardness rubbed against his. They pulled back after a moment to look in each other’s eyes, looking for any doubt or indication this was a bad idea.

They were both sure.

“You know I’ll charge you extra for how long I take to fix the bike, right?” Akihito grinned.

Asami smiled. “You’ll have to give me a discount if you don’t get to finish it tonight. At all.”

“Mmhm,” Akihito finished, nipping at the man’s bottom lip before Asami sucked at his tongue, cupped his ass with both hands and hefted him off the floor so he could wrap both legs around the man’s waist.

Asami knew how to use his hands pretty well, and soon they both separated to undress fully, drinking in the sight of each other’s body hungrily.

Akihito was maybe half the body mass of Asami, and Asami used that to his advantage while he maneuvered the younger man any which way he wanted him. Toned body and hard muscles writhed against each other in pure unadulterated ecstasy and Asami took Akihito over a variety of surfaces before he sexed him up on the leather of his stationery Harley.

Akihito planted his hands firmly on the gas tank, planted his feet on the pedal and rode Asami hard, who was under him leaning on the back seat and thrusting fervently. It only served to heighten their sexual drive and Akihito’s moans and whimpers rose the closer he came to orgasm.

Asami knew exactly how to play Akihito how he wanted him, and he sometimes pumped him hard and fast while he kept his eyes glued on where they joined, almost reaching his peak just from the sight. They were two sexually charged, pheromone induced bodies chasing on the tail of that powerful release.

When they both reached that orgasm, it was like the world had shattered into many tiny shards of glass and all that remained were just the two of them, breathing each other in and holding on like they were afraid to let go.

Asami held on tight to Akihito’s waist as he sat slumped over the engine, satiated.

Akihito swallowed, trying to catch his breath. “I live alone and I have a pretty decent shower.”

“I hope you have a bottle of Armor All too, Eleanor is none too pleased with how we’ve treated her.”

Akihito snorted, gingerly getting up and looking at his cum smeared across the polished engine. He could feel Asami’s running down the back of his leg. “Sorry girl.” He patted the blinker assemble warmly.

“Yeah, let’s go. Shower sounds like a good place for round two.”

Akihito yelped when Asami threw him over his shoulder before slapping him on the ass.

“But first, where _is_ the bathroom?”

Akihito burst out into a fit of laughter.

.............

The first morning back at school Asami felt grouchy and a bit downtrodden. A week flew by so quickly and now that work had caught up with him, he hadn’t been able to keep his promise to see Takaba again.

He had developed feelings for him and to be honest, it bit like ticks under his skin knowing he wouldn’t see him for at least another month after the new school year had completely settled.

Sighing, Asami found his desk in the teacher’s lounge and drank from the coffee cup he’d acquired down in the lobby on his way in, since he was in a rush and forgot to take his own better tasting brew. It was still early and classes didn’t start until another hour, but he came in early enough to get his things in order before he visited each class and the fangirls started pouring in. He was going through leftover thesis papers and summer projects when Kirishima approached him, the Advanced Math tutor and one of his closest friends in the entire faculty body. He wasn’t chatty, and that’s why he didn’t mind his company. He was deadly with a golf club too.

“Was your break as bad as mine?”

Asami’s mind flitted to Akihito once again and he took another sip from the bad coffee. “I doubt it.”

Kirishima sighed. “The Dean gave me your roster and schedule for the next semester. Here.”

“Thanks.”

Kirishima nodded before leaving.

Asami took a cursory glance at the student roster, trying to get a feel how his time would be split this semester. The name Takaba, Akihito, 20 years old, Advanced Economics, Room 16, Block 4 popped out at him immediately and he didn’t bother to go over the rest of the list.

His year just got a whole lot brighter.

/End


End file.
